


Wraiths

by ScarletRaven1001



Category: Dragon Ball, Dragon Ball Z, Vegebul - Fandom
Genre: Character Study, Drama & Romance, F/M, Introspection, Light Angst, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-14 15:27:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29420841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScarletRaven1001/pseuds/ScarletRaven1001
Summary: ...Her touch was like the mist of wraiths across his skin...Vegeta ponders the life that he finds himself in, a life so far apart from the malevolent violence of this youth.
Relationships: Bulma Briefs/Vegeta
Comments: 9
Kudos: 94





	Wraiths

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! Happy Valentine's Day! ❤
> 
> This little fic was my contribution to the amazing Timeless Vegebul Zine! I really loved writing this short story, and had so much fun working with the amazing people behind the zine. 
> 
> Huge, huge shoutout to the incredible Ominarty (Twitter: @ominarty_), my partner for this zine, who made absolutely beautiful art for this humble fic. 
> 
> I hope you like it!

In a strange way, her touch was a perplexing duality.

There were some moments when her grasp was hard, needy; demanding and insistent, a persuasive grip that tugged him along with her to wherever she wanted them to go.

However, there were also moments when her caresses were gentle, caring; soothing and soft, she could lull him into a state of calm contentment, or wring the most agonizing sighs of euphoria from his usually silent lips.

Her touch made him feel powerful, unearthing those precious memories that Vegeta held of a grandeur long-lost, those brief years when he had been the revered prince of a powerful race of warriors. Yet, she also reminded him of everything that he would never again have. He knew that had he remained in that old life, now so far-removed that his memories could almost be mistaken for delusions, he never would have felt her dainty fingers ghost upon his scarred flesh.

Vegeta both loathed and craved it… Bulma’s touch was like the mist of wraiths across his skin.

He could never again shun those hands that had given him shelter and pleasure, the first to be extended to him with an offer of comfort instead of a covenant of violence. However, he hated this cloud of doubt that surrounded him whenever he thought of her, the distinct feeling that he would be fine with the idea of staying right beside her on this impossibly soft bed instead of out there seizing power and glory.

Frieza was gone… The threat of the androids was over. His most despised rival was no more. Where was a warrior like him to go, with no battles to live for?

The sudden soft brush of her skin on his would have startled him, had he been anyone other than himself. His senses were sharp, and even turned away from her, the near-silent rustling of sheets had alerted him to her slow movements several moments before her fingers began tracing across his back.

He kept his breaths calm and level, feigning sleep; a part of him unreasonably afraid to turn around and face her, to return the gentle caresses that he knew she deserved.

What could she be thinking, he wondered, as she silently drew lines along his flesh? Was she mindlessly mapping his skin, or thinking back on their recent night of passion?

His thoughts halted when he felt her fingers wander to a certain spot on his back, a particular patch of terribly scarred skin. It was the mark left behind from when Frieza had killed him on Namek, from a beam of energy that had pierced right through his body.

He felt her fingers pause, before he felt her palm slowly close over the scar.

Right at that moment, Vegeta barely remembered the mark; barely remembered the pain that had wracked him and the clawing desperation that filled his soul as he was given the fatal wound that had left it.

All he could think of was her hand on his back, and all he could feel was the warmth from her touch… The overwhelming feeling of her fingers, chasing away the ghosts left behind by his pain, stubbornly fighting to heal the wounds left behind not just on his skin, but in his very core.

Vegeta knew, deep down, why her touches evoked such strange feelings within him. He knew that her touches spoke to his soul beyond the time that they shared now, that she was slowly mending him, banishing the echoes of chaos that had haunted him since he had barely drawn his first breath.

Beyond this very room… beyond space and time, her strange fondness for him, unfathomable as it may be, whispered deeply into his heart.

He had feared that he may have nothing left to live for as his foes were ripped from their harsh reality by the very violence that had once kept them bound as rivals. Yet, would it be so difficult to try to find another reason to survive? Would it be so impossible to live so he could drown his dreary thoughts in a single woman’s smile?

Too soon, it seemed, her touches began to falter. The tender movements slowed, until he felt her questing fingers fall away, their absence leaving a hollow feeling in his chest that he chose to leave and ponder another day. He listened intently as Bulma’s breaths began to slow, rising and falling gently as she slipped into her dreams.

It was only then that Vegeta allowed himself to move, carefully turning over so he could face her. She looked peaceful in slumber, her usual mischievous grins smoothed into the calm placidness of oblivion. Her eyes were closed, but in his mind, he could almost see the way the blue orbs sparkled in delight, the way they widened when he unwittingly did something that pleased her. He could almost see the way her smile shone in those irises as much as on her ruby lips, and the mere memory of her glee was enough to tug at his chest in a way that should have been painful, but was anything but.

Slowly, almost gingerly, he moved closer, lifting a muscular arm so he could carefully drape it across her waist. His heart was pounding inexplicably as he pulled her closer, as he reached his other hand out so he could cradle her blue-haired head against his chest.

Was this what it was like, to cherish another?

Perhaps, a single night of rumination was not enough to show him the way. However, Vegeta also knew that the desire to pull Bulma close, the compulsion to let his power surround her as he held her tight, was all up to him. He had all the time in the universe to think about this blossoming life with this confusing, beautiful woman.

What he had with her began as something shallow, spurred by the unconscious whispers of a lonely existence. But right then, as he embraced her, exquisite and solidly warm in his arms, he understood that she was not a mere phantom that would pass through his life and drift away. Somehow, he knew that should he choose to stay, she would be right by his side: his fearless little woman, whose gentle touches had slowly begun to chase the wraiths of his past away. 

[Art](https://twitter.com/ominarty_/status/1360880123596075010?s=20) by [Ominarty on Twitter](https://twitter.com/ominarty_)


End file.
